Grubby hands, greasy paws, tackle football
I’m helping raise a generation of hooligans.
Evidence A: New Year’s Eve lunch in a restaurant. I point Kuya’s son, my nephew, to the rim shop across the street and say, “Look! Rims! Don’t you want rims? Tell Mommy and Daddy you want rims. You can have four different types on one car!”
Evidence B: Went to a friend’s New Year’s Eve party. I wasn’t interested in playing with a Wii or watching a football game, so I fed their child potato chips instead. The kid’s only 1 (like my nephew) and unsteady on his feet. So everytime he tripped with a chip in his hand there were crumblies on the floor and oil all over his fingers. Kid liked his salt, though.
Evidence C: Tackle football! Up and down my parents living room I play tackle football with the niece and nephew. She’s 3 and he’s 1. The only rule is “Who has the football? Tackle them!” Little nephew is too little to tackle anybody, so I give him stuffed animals to wrestle.
Evidence D: I’d gladly do it all again…except maybe I’ll be uninvited to future events. I’m sure the wife can go, though. She’ll have to raise the hooligans in my place.
Just in case, though. Next time we’re bringing fingerpaints, facepaints, and lots and lots of candy.
felixnation :: Jan.01.2007 :: Mad Schemes, Odysseys, church, family :: No Comments »